An Unwilling Dragonborn
by sansastarkmustdie
Summary: Jessaiah of Windhelm is a conflicted woman. A chance encounter with Alduin at Helgen throws her life into a terrible spiral that she desperately wants to escape. She tries to run from her destiny but she cannot escape her identity as Dragonborn so easily. This story is a work in progress. I will be updating it with at least one new chapter a week, possibly more.
1. Chapter 1: Awakened in Binds

Jessaiah's head was throbbing when she woke up. Her exposed face was greeted harshly by the frigid air. A sudden jolt snapped her out of her grogginess. She realized that she was in the back of a horse-drawn cart, and there were other people like her sitting with her.

The memory of the past few hours came rushing back to her. She had been hunting small game outside of Windhelm when she had stumbled upon a small patrol of Stormcloaks. What should have been a friendly passing interaction was turned upside down by the platoon of Imperials who ambushed them. Now she was their prisoner, suspected of being a Stormcloak spy.

She looked around at the other prisoners with her. There was a wooly-haired Stormcloak soldier seated across from her. Sitting on the soldier's left was a scrawny man who clearly had no military background. She turned to her right to take a look at the man who was producing the muffled grunt sounds. He turned to look at her. He was a bulky serious man with short hair. A cloth was tied across his mouth, gagging him. She suddenly recognized that face. It was Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, the leader of the Stormcloak rebellion.

"My Jarl!" she gasped in disbelief. "They captured you too!"

Jarl Ulfric grunted in answer. His eyes held no fear, only rage.

"Yes, they captured the leader of our righteous rebellion" said the soldier sitting across from her. "That can only mean that these Imperial dogs are going to put us down. I shall see you again in Sovngarde, my Nord sister."

"I wish I could believe that" muttered Jessaiah. "Windhelm is my home but I am a Breton. I was not raised to believe in the stories of Sovngarde."

"Ah, I see. Well we are all brothers and sisters in binds now, ready to meet the Gods. Face your death with courage and with the spirit of the Stormcloaks in your heart, and maybe your Breton soul can still join us in Sovngarde."

"I would be honored. I don't know you, but I am a loyal citizen of Windhelm and a supporter of the rebellion. Please say a prayer to the Gods on my behalf."

"It shall be the prayer uttered on my dying breath" said the soldier. "Pray for Skyrim. The Gods know we will need them once Ulfric is taken from us. May the love of Talos continue to burn in hearts throughout Skyrim."

"Praise Talos, and the rest of the Nine Divines" said Jessaiah.


	2. Chapter 2: Death of a Jarl

"First prisoner!" shouted a female Imperial officer.

The scrawny man in front of Jessaiah began trembling violently. "I'm not with these Stormcloaks!" he shouted. He lunged forward and broke into a sprint, dodging several Imperial soldiers who tried to grab him. The Lieutenant flashed a hand signal to an archer stationed on top of a house. The archer grinned maliciously as he pulled back on his bow and aimed with expert precision. An arrow flew from his bow, gliding in a long arc that terminated between the fleeing prisoner's shoulders.

"Anyone else want to try running?" demanded the Lieutenant.

Jessaiah glanced at the beheading block to her left. The executioner carried a bloodied axe.

_If I stay, the Imperials will execute me on the block. At least running gives me a chance. Who in their right mind wouldn't run?_

That was enough for Jessaiah. She planted a strong kick into the Lieutenant's midsection, toppling the Imperial. Rather than taking the main road attempted by the scrawny man, she turned around and ducked behind the cart they had rode in on. An arrow whizzed through the air and chipped a few splinters from the wooden cart. Jessaiah seized the opportunity and sprinted as fast as she could. Running between the stone wall on her left and the guard tower on her right made it much more difficult for the archers to aim at her.

The sound of thunder erupted in the darkening sky as she fled. An inhuman roar filled the air. Something massive came crashing down. Tremors shook the ground, almost costing Jessaiah her balance. The Sun's rays were briefly shielded by the massive object in the sky.

Jessaiah knew it was wise to keep running full speed ahead but her curiosity got the better of her. Turning her head, she saw a black winged beast perching on top of the guard tower. With a mighty roar, the beast spewed a torrent of flames from it fanged jaws. She came to a stop and just stood there, watching the destruction with disbelieving eyes. The Imperial archers that had been trying to kill her just a brief moment ago were now unleashing volleys of arrows at the beast, but they just bounced harmlessly off of its scaly hide.

The beast had punctured the very heavens above them. Columns of fire rained down from a black hole in the sky. Violent gusts of wind swirled around the great beast. The beast matched the description of the dragons spoken of in the old stories but Jessaiah had assumed they were simply a myth. It didn't feel so mythical anymore.

"Fight me, you demon!" screamed a powerful voice. Jessaiah looked around for the source of that voice and quickly laid eyes on the strong figure standing tall before the dragon. It was Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak. His hands were bound but his mouth was no longer gagged. The enraged Jarl puffed up his chest and inhaled deeply.

"FUS-ROH-DAH!"

The air around him exploded with a force rivaling the tremors produced by the beast's arrival. It was as if the sky itself punched the beast. Its head was knocked back and its perch atop the tower was thrown off balance. The beast quickly recovered and took to the sky on its powerful wings. Jessaiah's vision became shrouded in a sea of flames.

The Jarl's body was glowed brightly as it crumbled to ash. Jessaiah was immobilized by shock. Her Jarl had been killed right before her eyes as if he were a tiny bug under an Imperial boot. Grief turned to terror as the beast turned its head to look directly at her. It began to fly away but not before its gravelly voice spat out a single word.

"_Dovahkiin_"

Jessaiah was sure she had never heard the word before but a tiny voice inside her head whispered its meaning.

"_Dragonborn"_


End file.
